The Jagged Edge
by Forlorn Melody
Summary: She's the infamous victor from District 7. He's the mysterious hunter from District 12. Their paths were never supposed to cross, until the Capitol and a stolen train ticket brought them together. Eventual Gale x Johanna. Sequel to Splatterlog.
1. Train Ride

Hello everyone! Yes, I mean you, and you, and especially _you_. This is the sequel to _Splatterlog_, though, if you want to skip the torture scenes, you'll probably be fine reading this. The only prerequisite is of course, Susan Collin's _Catching Fire _and _Mockingjay_, as this fanfic takes place directly after the war in the Capitol and before the epilogue.

* * *

Scarred: Chapter 1: Train Ride

Gale lugged his bag across the train platform, grimacing at the sweltering sun. When he had gone inside to pick up his ticket to District Two, the weather outside had been windy and cold. Honestly, Gale didn't think he'd have to leave his jacket off when he went back out. He could already feel the sweat forming around the base of his neck, and underneath his belt. More than anything, he wanted to set his bag down and remove the stupid thing, but he was running late.

So late, in fact, that Gale wasn't really paying attention to where he was going, or who was coming from the other direction. He smacked into her like a bird against a window pane, and both of them sprawled backwards. It was only when he met her wide-set brown eyes that Gale realized his mistake.

Johanna Mason hastily pushed herself back up, ignoring Gale's outstretched hand. "Watch it, asshole!" She snarled as she circled around him.

Gale glanced over his shoulder, still in a bit of a daze, watching her as she stuck her hands in her pants pockets as she marched off. Shaking away the feeling, Gale pulled himself up and grabbed his bag again. Moments later he was handing off his luggage to the porter.

"Could I see your ticket, and identification, sir?" The porter did a double take when he glanced up into Gale's eyes.

Great. All Gale wanted these days was to go to some place where no one recognized him. No such luck yet. "Sure thing." Gale reached into his pants pocket for his new badge and train ticket, and did a double take of his own. His pocket was empty. "Could've sworn it was here…." He muttered, reaching into his other pocket. No luck there either.

"Perhaps it's in your jacket, Mr…?"

"Hawthorne."

The porter went white as a sheet. "Oh-oh." He seemed to forget himself a moment, nearly reaching for Gale's bag before remembering himself. "T-ticket please?"

Gale heaved his jacket upside down, trying to empty the contents. All that fluttered out was his letter from Paylor herself. "Will this work?"

The porter took it, reading it under his breath. "_Congratulations Gale Hawthorne, on your appointment as Capitol Liaison to District Two_…" His voice dropped as he scanned the rest of the letter for something in particular. He glanced up at Gale nervously as he handed back the letter. "A-Are you sure you don't have _any _identification?"

"_Attention: Train One-Six Departing to District Two will be leaving in ten minutes. Passengers, please report to Platform Two-Five."_

Sighing impatiently, Gale gazed steadily at the porter. "Look, ask anyone around here who I am, and they'll tell you I'm the guy in this letter." When the porter hesitated, Gale turned his head and opened his mouth as if to call out to a complete stranger.

"Alright! Alright! I believe you, Mr. Hawthorne." The porter tugged the bag out of Gale's hand.

Gale took a deep breath as his headed to the train door, holding his letter at the ready. Hopefully the conductor would have more common sense than the porter. He didn't.

"Yes, I see the President's signature, and seal, but I'm afraid I still can't let you on this train."

"Why not?" Gale heard his own voice rising as he braced a hand on the train itself.

"Because another passenger already handed in your ticket, sir."

Gale's jaw dropped. "And you took it? _His_ name isn't on the ticket."

"Of course not, Mr. Hawthorne, but _she_ said you gave her your ticket and identification because you were going to miss your train. Something about a meeting or—"

"What was the car and room number on the ticket?" Gale grabbed the inside of the door, shifting his weight.

The conductor blinked, narrowing his eyes as he checked his scanner. "Car two, room one—oof! Hey! You can't go in there!" He yelled as Gale Hawthorne pushed past him.

His mind spun as he hurried towards the front of the train. Who could it be? Gale could think of several women in his life recently, and he didn't want to see _any _of them. The numbers on the doors blurred as Gale rushed past them.

When he room One, Gale paused to take a steadying breath as he pushed the button on the door opener. _Relax, Gale. She's probably just some petty thie-"_

The door slid open, revealing not a stranger, but someone Gale was fairly acquainted with—Johanna Mason. He didn't find this as shocking as the fact that she was naked.

Johanna smirked up at him, with a challenging glint in her warm eyes. "Hello Gorgeous."

* * *

The moment Haymitch even mentioned Katniss's name, Gale was charging toward the hospital in. Haymitch would only have mentioned her for one of two reasons: either Katniss had died, or she had made it out of surgery. Gale hoped it was the second one. _It wasn't a lethal injury. She's fine. She _will_ be fine_, Hawthorne told himself over and over.

Finding it easier to focus on getting to the hospital wing as fast as possible, Gale treated each guard, soldier, and orderly like an obstacle. He pushed past one, ducked under a pane of fresh sheet metal and dodged several gurneys before he arrived at the wing.

Back then, Gale wasn't so easily recognized, especially in Thirteen. His face got him nowhere with the recovery nurse. Katniss's mother wasn't available to step in, no matter how Gale pleaded, the nurse didn't grant his request to fetch Mrs. Everdeen. It wasn't until Gale folded his arms in frustration, that the nurse saw his communicuff.

Though he hated using the lie¸ the nurses wouldn't let Gale into the hospital unless he was a family member. "I'm her cousin." He told them impatiently.

The nurse's eyes's widened. "Right this way, sir." She stood up in a hurry. "Thank you for your patience and understanding." It was as if she had never told him no. Gale may have heard one of them telling him to keep it down, as most of the patients were sleeping, but he just ignored it. Obviously the nurses had never seen him hunt, or heard exactly how quiet he could be when he wanted.

So quiet in fact, that none of the patients heard him coming. Gale followed the directions the nurse had given him to Katniss's bed. It wasn't that hard to find. It was at the end closest to the emergency room, just in case the doctors suddenly needed to save her life. Thirteen wouldn't dare let its Mockingjay die on its watch.

Gale pulled back the curtain. "Hey Catnip—" He blinked. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"What's it look like I'm doing, Handsome?" Johanna Mason made a point of giving him a very slow once over as he stepped up to the bed. With her, it was hard to tell if was because she found him attractive, or if she was sizing up her prey. Probably both. She sat on the edge of Katniss's bed, bracing herself against the mattress with her hands as she leaned forward. She looked like she was about to pounce. Gale noticed then that the IV that was supposed to be hooked to Katniss's arm was hooked into Johanna's instead.

He narrowed his eyes. "Put it back."

Johanna smirked. "Or what?"

Gale grabbed her arm, squeezing it firmly until it turned red. "Put it _back_."

"Ow-ow! Geeze. Fine." Johanna twisted her arm out of his grip and removed the needle from her own elbow.

"Now _leave_." When Johanna didn't move, Gale leaned down over her. It wasn't hard, with her being head shorter.

"Sure thing." Johanna leaned up and pecked him on the cheek before sliding off the gurney and over to her own.

Gale stared at the curtain whipped between them. _What the hell was that?_

* * *

Damn. "What are you doing in my car?" Gale made a point of glaring into her eyes. It made it easier to not look…anywhere else.

Johanna shrugged. "Waiting for my clothes to dry." She nodded at the adjoining restroom. To her credit, her Thirteen-issued uniform really was damp and hanging beside the shower curtain.

"In my bathroom." Gale quirked an eyebrow.

"Come on, Hawthorne. It's not like the train has its own laundromat."

"It doesn't." Gale agreed. "But I'm sure you could easily get your _own _car to Seven." He leaned against the doorway. "Why aren't you going there?"

Johanna smirked. "Why aren't you going to _Twelve_, Gorgeous?"

Gale didn't answer, narrowing his eyes. "Where's my ticket? I want it back."

"Oh, this?" Johanna reached behind the cushion, pulling the ticket with a flourish.

Silently, Gale lunged for the ticket, as if he were hunting a rabbit that had missed one of his snares. It usually worked for him, but every once in a while his foot would get caught in one of his own traps. Like today, when Gale's foot managed to fit between the groves on the window seat, sending him sprawling against the seat itself. Swearing, he wrestled Johanna for the ticket, but it always seemed just out of reach. What the hell? Her arms were shorter than his!

Finally, Gale managed to pin her long enough to grab the ticket from her hands. He had just enough time to make eye contact with her, when the doorknob across the room turned. "Conductor. Please have your tickets ready!"

Gale tried to pull away, but Johanna put her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer as she hooked her ankles around his. The door opened.

"Oh, my." The conductor stared at what probably looked like an indiscreet moment.

"It's not what it looks like!" Gale reached behind his head, grabbing Johanna's hand, but it was too late.

"I'llcomebacklater." The conductor mumbled, slamming the door behind him.

"Are you crazy?" Gale shouted as he jerked away from her, the ticket still in his hand.

"What? It worked, didn't it?" Johanna sat up, grinning.

"He'll be back." Gale took off his jacket, tossing it at her angrily.

Sliding the coat on, without taking her gaze off him, Johanna replied, "No, he won't." She snickered. "That guy won't show his face in here for weeks."

Gale made a point of looking at the shape of her ankles as the merry murdererss made her way to the bathroom to pick up her clothes. "You hungry, Hawthorne?"

He wasn't, but if it would mean an hour of _not_ being trapped in a room with Johanna Mason, it was worth it. At least, he thought it was until she left him with the bill.

* * *

Well, that was a really comedic opening. For all my _Splatterlog_ fans, no worries. There will be plenty of angst in later chapters. And also, please accept my huge apology for such a delay in posting this. I spent several months just researching Johanna, and especially Gale, as his voice was hard one to adapt to (as he isn't much for words.) Let me know what you think!


	2. Homecoming

I'm almost afraid to check to see how long it's been since I've updated. It was sometime this season, right? The months are blurring together. Anyway, I hope none of you are as sunburned as my left shoulder is right now. Also, I still don't own the Hunger Games. I probably won't be buying it any time soon, either, unless the series goes on clearance.

* * *

The Jagged Edge: Chapter 2: Homecoming

Johanna had to give credit to the train's plumbing. Her outfit hadn't been this clean since she left Thirteen. It had faded a little, the grey wash having gone down with the soapy water in the sink. Now, out in the open air of District Two, it was almost as white as one of Finnick's shirts. _Don't think about him, Jo. Just don't._ Funny how her mind played cruel tricks on her. The voice in Johanna's head sounded just like him.

_That's why you're here, isn't it? To move on? _Johanna had only been to District Two a couple times, and it was always confined to the justice building and the surrounding square. Two had trees, just like Seven, but these were pines, not furs, and the air was supposed to be dry, not damp. For some reason it was really muggy. And even though it was around noon, the clouds were really, really dark. Oh yeah, District Two was also known for its thunderstorms.

And of course, there were a hell of a lot more peacekeepers. Two of them sat at a table at the train station's exit, and several stood guard next to them. Johanna didn't care if there was a stupid peacekeeper academy here, she still didn't like them hovering around. The passengers lined up single file, each pulling out their identification when they arrived at the table.

_Shit_. They wouldn't send her back to Seven, would they? Johanna had a bad feeling they wouldn't fall for the same ruse she had pulled on the train. So far, though, no one else had the same problem. Chewing her lip, Johanna watched as the line in front of them dwindled to three people. It was then she heard the thunder.

"Do you need a place to stay?" Hawthorne glanced at her, his grey eyes studying her carefully.

"If you think I need your help, you're out of your damn mind." Johanna snapped, making a point to put as much space between them as possible. She failed to hear the rest of what Gale said, when the wind was blowing his words the other way. Something about a hotel being destroyed. Whatever. There was no way in hell she was playing damsel in distr—

Something wet dropped onto her head. Johanna stopped short, feeling another on her shoulder. And another. There were just two more people in front of her now. She looked up in to the sky with her eyes wide, just in time to see the lightning flash across the clouds. _Shit. _

"Johanna? You okay?" Gale's voice sounded distant, as if there was water in her ears.

The rain poured down on them, and Johanna _couldn't_ breathe. _Shit, shit , shit!_

"Identification, please." The peacekeeper glanced up at her, annoyed, but Johanna was having trouble making out the features in his face.

Glancing at Gale, Johanna managed to choke out, "Where do you live again?"

Hawthorne shoved his bag into Johanna's arms as he pulled out his badge. He barreled through the guards, dragging her behind them.

* * *

On the first day of her games, it was raining too. Johanna remembered dragging her feet through the slick mud, cursing the gamemakers under her breath. Everything seemed unnaturally wet. Even the branches slid right out of her fingers. It would take the two of them forever to find shelter.

"How much longer, Jo?" Rye whined as he trudged behind her.

"We'll get there quicker if you shut your mouth." Johanna took a steadying breath. Why she decided allying herself with the brat from District Nine, she had no idea.

"My feet hurt. Can we take a break?" He wheezed.

"Later." Johanna had to wonder what he did during Training. Honestly she had paid no attention to him, or any of the other tributes. She only focused on making herself stronger when the others weren't looking. Mostly, that meant doing pushups all night and running laps around her bedroom up on the seventh floor. Her days in the training center blurred together as she tried to pay attention to the lady teaching her about survival skills.

Finally, they reached a cave where they could camp for the night. Johanna made a point of cloaking the entrance with branches and leaves, and it took her an hour at least. It did them no good.

"See? I'm not completely useless." Johanna smelled the smoke before she turned. She gaped at the flames as Rye continued. "I built us a fire."

His beaming smile turned into a frown as Johanna raced toward him. "You brainless _idiot!_ You'll get us _both _killed!" She stamped out the flames as fast as she could. But it was too late. The Careers had found them.

Johanna heard footsteps above, and covered Rye's mouth before he could say anything. "Don't," she whispered, hearing little more than her heart pounding. Taking one of the sharp rocks from the cave floor, Johanna whispered again "Go deeper into the cave. Now." Surely they'd hear her breathing frantically. In the dim light shining into the cave , Johanna saw Rye nod before he vanished into the darkness.

Someone sang from just outside. "Come out, come out." Her voice was sickeningly sweet, like the icecream Johanna had eaten the night before.

The girl wasn't alone, either. "We promise we'll make it quick." Johanna realized with a start that the boy from Two was lying. She had glimpsed him at the Cornucopia, pinning their prey to the ground as the girl from One carved them to death with a knife.

Shuddering, Johanna retreated after Rye, knowing what she had to do. They had no chance getting out of this together. He would only slow her down. And he was no match for the two outside.

Hours later, the Careers dragged Johanna out screaming. The boy from Two held her tightly outside, so that the girl from Two could get a good look at her. "Wasn't there another one with you?"

Johanna replied in small voice. "He tripped." Swallowing hard, she continued. "He hit his head on a rock." She jolted as she heard cannon fire.

* * *

"You okay?" Gale's grey eyes studied her carefully. It wasn't until he took the bag from her hands that Johanna realized she was soaked, and shaking.

"I-I'm fine." Johanna said with a small voice that did not sound like her own. _How long was I out? _How far she run on auto pilot?

The two of them were standing inside a small apartment, probably Gale's. It had a couch the living room and the kitchen had a small counter in front the fridge, a couple cupboards and a sink. She saw a short hallway with a door on each side. Probably the bathroom and the bedroom.

Gale caught her gaze after he set the bag on the floor. "What do you think?"

"This place is tiny." Johanna replied, not meeting his eyes. Her body felt like a shell, a borrowed one. Was this what Peeta felt like after one of his episodes?

"Well, it was only built for one." Gale smirked, heading to the kitchen. "You hungry?" He looked up at her, and blinked.

Sourly, Johanna snapped. "I'm _wet_." She didn't wait for him to answer before charging off to the bathroom to dry off. Johanna wasn't sure, but she swore she could hear Gale snickering.

* * *

It's a short and sweet chapter this time. One, I didn't want to keep you waiting too long, and two-I didn't want to bore you with a bunch of clichéd filler. Next chapter, however, will be amping things up a bit. Also, chapters will alternate perspectives. Send me a review if you'd like to! Flames, however, will be used to toast marshmallows.


	3. Useless

Hello, everyone! Thank you for all the feedback, especially TheWomanWhoCodesandWrites! How many times have you guys watched the second Catching Fire trailer? I've already lost count. Finnick! Johanna! Gale! Gah. It's rather overwhelming. November can't get here fast enough.

* * *

Gale knew from the moment he walked into the room that this was not going according to plan. He felt all eyes on him, sizing him up, labeling him, and then almost shoving him back out the door. Settling his shoulders, Gale held his ground.

"Who are you supposed to be, stranger?" One man sat just two feet away from the door, who was old enough to have gray in his hair, but still young enough to put up a fight. However, he wasn't the one in charge.

As Gale took the only empty seat, in the middle of the table, he realized what that feeling was. District Two was the last district to fall before the Capitol, the last loyal district, the one destroyed from the inside out. Any stranger was considered an enemy.

"Must be the guy from the Capitol."

Gale sat with his elbows braced on the table. "District 12, actually."

"So basically, from the Capitol." The woman sitting across from him rolled her eyes.

"I'm here to help."

"We don't _want_ your help." The old man on the other end of the table snapped.

"We _need_ as much help as we can _get_. Even if it's from Twelve." Another woman, this one younger, but with nearly as many lines in her forehead, leaned forward as if to make her point.

"But he's one of _them!_ I saw him on the television! For all _we _know, he's one of the ones who blew up our _mountain!_"

Gale sat back in his chair, keeping silent as the meeting dissolved into arguing. He'd never been one for drinking, but tonight sounded like a good time to start.

As Gale left the meeting, he realized why he felt so defeated. Helping District Two rise from the rubble would be so much harder than burning it to the ground. He could lead, sure, but he had never spent much time growing up building structures, healing wounds, or soothing hearts. Gale knew how to hunt, how to kill, how to destroy. What use was he after the war?

* * *

"Get him out of here, Gale, before he steals my mind away." Hazelle, normally so warm and inviting, looked particularly strained that morning. Gale wouldn't dare mention it, but he could see at least two fresh gray hairs poking out from her scalp. She pushed Gale's brother toward him with a sigh.

Despite wanting to look intimidating, Gale couldn't help the proud grin on his face. "Rory Hawthorne. Are you being a pain?"

"Nu uh." Rory, just barely old enough to collect his own tesserae looked up at Gale innocently.

Gale pulled his brother back. "Don't worry Mrs. Hawthorne, I'll show him those who don't follow the rules." He winked as he felt Rory stiffen. Poor kid had no idea.

Gale led them both through the streets, and they could hear the televisions blaring from the Square. Rory started to glance back, but Gale pushed him forward, walking faster.

"Don't you want to see how our tributes are doing?"

Gale swallowed hard, muttering, "Not really."

"Do you think they'll win this year?"

"I doubt it." Gale muttered, wishing the walk to the fence wasn't so long.

"We have to win sometime, don't we?" Rory stopped, and when Gale stopped to look at him, he was looking directly into his brother's eyes.

"As long as the Games still exist, we will never _win_." And with that, Gale started walking again. Soon though, he realized he couldn't hear his brother's inane jabber questions anymore. "Rory?" His brother wasn't even in sight.

Swearing, Gale searched for his brother's tracks. It didn't take long, but every second felt like an eternity. What if one or both of them got caught near the fence? It was one thing, when Gale was on the way home with something to bribe the peacekeepers with. But now, when he was empty handed? Caught or not, Rory was in for it.

Gale found him further down, far from the hole that Gale and Katniss normally used. His brother was crouched on the ground, staring at something Gale couldn't quite see. "Rory! I told you to stay with me."

Rory finally tore his eyes away from whatever it was, and looked at Gale. "I heard something."

Stopping, Gale heard it too. It came from some sort of small animal, one obviously in pain. It sounded like gravel on a chalkboard. Gale took a few more steps until he was next to his brother. If it weren't for the noise, Gale never would have noticed the animal, for its muddy yellow fur nearly matched the dry grass around it. The cat looked like someone had punched its face in at birth, and something had torn half off one of his ears. That however, wasn't what caught Gale's attention. Blood had pooled around its belly.

"Leave it, Rory. We can't save it." _Let alone feed it_, Gale thought.

"_We_ can't. But Prim can."

"We don't have time, Rory. Come on." Gale sighed. "We need to get into the forest before it gets too late."

"You go. I'm taking him to Prim."

"You said you wanted to learn how to hunt!" Gale glanced at the cat, which thrashed in Rory's arms until he wrapped it in his jacket. "Besides, that thing is useless."

"He isn't _useless!_" Rory snapped, holding the cat protectively. "He'll make Prim happy. That's all he needs to do."

Gale ended up hunting alone that day, and Rory took the cat to Prim, without ever learning how to hunt. Somehow, in the days and years ahead, Rory never had that chance again.

* * *

Though Gale didn't live far from the Justice Building where the committee met, the walk seemed too long. He just wanted to rest, to sit on the couch with a drink in one hand and his dinner in the other. Maybe he'd even shower. The more Gale thought about it, the more tempting a cold shower sounded. However, when Gale stepped inside his apartment, the water was already running.

_Oh right, I have a guest_. Then again, "guest" might not be the right word. It wasn't like he invited her over. Well, he did, but that didn't mean he expected her to stick around. "Johanna?"

"Go away!" Johanna snapped, though it was kind of muffled in the shower. Gale also heard her swear colorfully as he made his way over to the bedroom at the back of the apartment, against his better judgment.

As Gale opened the bedroom door, he heard a crash.

"_Fuck!_" Johanna whimpered from inside the bathroom. "Damn it all to hell."

Gale grasped the doorknob to the bathroom door, and hesitated. "You okay?"

"I said go away, you son of a bitch!"

Turning the knob, Gale asked, "Is that a yes or a no?"

"Open that door and I swear I'll—" Johanna shut her mouth as Gale stepped inside.

She reminded him of Buttercup when after he got stuck out in the rain. Johanna huddled at the far corner of the shower, soaked, and folded into one of the tightest positions Gale had ever seen. The water cascaded against the opposite wall. Even as Gale closed the door behind him, Johanna kept staring at the water like it would lash out at her.

"What happened?"

Johanna swallowed hard, closing her eyes tightly. "I slipped." She added quickly, "I'm fine."

Gale stepped towards the shower, sighing. "Sure you are."

Her head jerked up as he came closer, her eyes widening. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Drying you off." Gale turned off the water, and Johanna uncoiled a little, only to bristle when he grabbed her elbow.

"Let go, asshole." Johanna stood up shakily with his help. "I said I'm fine."

"I know you did." Gale pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around her. "Here."

She gave him a look that would probably kill him under other circumstances, but accepted the jacket anyway. Holding it around her, she watched him closely as he searched for a towel. "What happened to Finnick?"

Gale took his gaze away from the cupboard, and glanced at her. "What?"

Even though she was still shaking, Johanna's eyes boiled. "You heard me."

He eyed her carefully as he held out a towel. "You heard the same as everyone else."

Johanna eyed the towel, briefly, and then glanced up at Gale. "Yeah, I know." She didn't take it. "But I want to know what really happened." The look in her eyes said it all. _I want to know why he died on your watch._

_Damn, _Gale thought as he sat down next to her, trying to collect his thoughts, pulling up images he had tried so hard to forget. He fingered the towel as he related the story, from the tunnels that seemed to close in on them with each step, Peeta's frenzied whispers, the half reptile, half-human mutts who took out nearly half their group, Finnick included. Gale swallowed, gently replacing the jacket with the towel, and for once Johanna didn't flinch. "He was climbing the ladder, well, trying to, as three mutts tore him apart."

Johanna wrapped her arms tightly around her middle, as if she had been kicked. _"Fuck._"

Gale founded himself mouthing an apology, but _Sorry_ didn't seem like enough. "What was it with you two, anyway?"

Johanna's head snapped back up as she glared at him. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing" Gale said quickly, pulling himself out of range.

Swallowing, as she wiped her face off with a towel, Johanna muttered. "I need a fucking drink."

Gale rubbed his neck. "Me too. Unfortunately, I'm fresh out."

Johanna rolled her eyes as she curled up underneath the sheets. "Of course."

Gale considered going back to the living room and spending yet another night on the couch, but something held him back. Maybe it was the way Johanna had rolled so that she faced him. Or it could be the way she had curled up so tightly that she barely took up any space. Not being able to help himself, Gale scooted closer to Johanna as her breathing slowed. Then, he knew why he stayed. He saw a line of wetness around Johanna's eyes, stubbornly held there by her eyelashes.

"You know I would've saved him if I could." Gale whispered.

Johanna's eyes snapped open, and she held his gaze for several moments. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she closed them without reply. Gale sank back into the sheets, his limbs feeling heavier than lead. He didn't sleep much that night, one thought ringing through his brain over and over: _She knows about Prim._

* * *

I'm pleased to announce that the Hunger Games Adventures confirmed my theory on District 7. It's located in my native Pacific Northwest, just north of District 4. Also, it's my birthday, so send me some cake in the reviews!


	4. Hot and Cold

Firstly, I'd like to thank all the regular reviewers. It's really nice to see that no one's given up on this story yet. It's a little different than Splatterlog, but there are some bits, especially in this chapter that might be familiar.

The line at the medical warehouse was surprisingly short. Maybe people in District 2 didn't want the new Capitol's help. Johanna rolled her eyes. _If I were them, I'd take whatever help I could get_. After the war, District 2 was one of the worst hit, along with District 12. Not to mention it was one of the larger districts, with more people and fewer supplies to go around.

If she weren't so desperate, Johanna would have waited until the line was a bit longer before taking action. Of course, if she were better off, Johanna wouldn't be stealing from the medical warehouse in the first place. _God, you're a wreck._ Whatever. At least, after this, Johanna would be a happy wreck. A _very _happy wreck. So she went through with her plan anyway.

Johanna found a bunch of raggedy kids milling around the back of the building, swearing and pushing each other around. They stopped and stared at her as she walked up them, eyeing her. Holding her arms behind her back, Johanna glanced at the oldest one. "You guys wanna do me a favor?" The kids said nothing. Leaning in closer, Johanna pointed at the warehouse. "I want you to go in there tear the shit out of each other. Make a big scene."

The kid folded his arms, his dirty little face scrunching up at her smile. "What's in it for us?"

"Yeah." The boy next to him only came up to his shoulder, and Johanna did her best to keep from snickering as the brat imitated the first.

"I've got candy." Johanna smirked.

"How much?"

Johanna stepped closer, holding it out.

A girl, probably no older than six, stepped out from behind the other two. She pushed her broomy hair out of her face, eyeing the sweets. "That's not very much."

"She's right." The oldest glanced up at Johanna again. "What else do ya got?"

Christ. These kids were tougher than the ones back home. And that was saying something. "Fine. One-fifty."

"We want ten."

"What do I look like? A bank?" Johanna pulled out gold coins, which, by the way, she had found in the pockets in one of Gale's pairs of pants. She considered it a tip for cleaning up after him. "One for each of you. I'll double it I see some tears."

The kids glanced at each other, then grabbed the candy and coins from Johanna's hand, and stuffed it in their pockets. She followed at a distance as they ran around the building.

"I was FIRST!" The youngest screeched first, shoving her older brother aside.

"Don't push me!" He, of course, pushed back after picking himself up from the doorway.

"Stop fighting or I'll beat you both up!" The eldest, probably a friend of theirs by the look of it, pretended to break them up, only to make things worse.

Around them, the line turned from a meandering string of people to more of a swarm. Johanna hid her smirk as she edged around the crowd and slipped inside. As if on cue, the kids brought their fight out the door, drawing the crowd's attention away from her. Perfect. She wandered through the isles of crates and boxes, some open, some not. Towards the back corner, in a pile of pain killers, Johanna found what she was looking for.

Picking up a small bottle, Johanna read the label. _Morpling, 200 mg. Prescription only. Use as directed…._

Johanna snuck it into her pocket, and made her way out, and around to the back of the building again. Five minutes later the kids followed, looking only slightly worse for wear. The youngest of course, proudly pointed out her wet cheeks.

"Nice work." Johanna smirked, handing her a coin.

"What about us?" Her older brother folded his arms in comical outrage.

"I don't see any tears." Johanna rolled her eyes.

"You didn't say _all _of us had to cry." The eldest argued.

"Fine." Johanna sighed, handing out the remaining two coins. The kids immediately ran off, leaving a small cloud of dust behind them. Shielding her eyes, Johanna heard, more than saw someone's fist flying toward her face. "—The hell!?" She blocked, ducking away from the punch, only to be kneed in the stomach.

Whoever it was didn't wait for Johanna to catch her breath. They knocked her against the back wall of the warehouse, pinning her arms above her head. Then, the dust finally cleared. "Hello, Johanna."

She saw her teeth first, gleaming sharply in the shadows of the noon sun. "Hi, Sharkface."

If Enobaria didn't like her new nickname, she didn't show it. Then again, that crazy bitch was _always_ smiling. "What are you doing in my district?" She pressed her arm tighter against Johanna's throat.

"It's a free country." Johanna managed to get out as she pulled her knees up, kicking Enbobaria off of her. The other victor fell back, kicking Johanna's feet out from under her as she went. Both of them tumbled to the ground, and wrestled for the upper hand. Johanna swore when Enobaria ended up pinning her _again_.

"You're not supposed to be here, are you." Enobaria leaned closer.

Johanna didn't reply, focusing on twisting out of the hold.

Enobaria continued, grinning wider. "I wonder what your psych team would do if they found out you were stealing these." She held up the bottle, and Johanna froze. "Send you back to Seven, maybe? Hold you in one of their asylum's?"

"You wouldn't dare." Johanna leaned up, meeting her gaze. With everything and _everyone_ that mattered gone, Johanna had no reason to leave this bitch alive. A life sentence in prison was _so _worth it. And that was only if she got caught. Not likely.

Enobaria shrugged, tossing the bottle aside as she got up. "I _could_ turn you over." She snickered as Johanna rolled over to get the bottle back. "But I think I'd rather watch you _burn_."

By the time Gale finally came home from work, Johanna was _long_ gone. Her head felt light and fuzzy, and little pins and needles cascaded up and down her body like a palpable breeze. She was inside though, wasn't she? Pfft. Who _cared_?

Gale himself was a blur, a fine looking blur at that. "Hello Gorgeous." Johanna leaned back breezily against the couch, eyeing him.

The guy in question stopped mid motion, his suitcase suspended halfway down to the floor. Johanna wasn't sure of the expression on his face, but it sure looked _nice._ "Hey." Instead of setting the bag down there, Gale carried it to the couch, sitting on the edge of the one corner Johanna wasn't sprawled across. "You okay?"

Johanna grinned, crawling over to him. He was so far _away_. "I'm _more_ than okay, Hawthorne." She crawled onto his lap, smirking down at him. "_You_, on the other hand, need to loosen up."

Unfortunately, that's when Gale glanced over at the end table. He picked up the bottle, holding it up between them. "What's this?"

She tried to snatch it away. "Nothin'."

Gale kept it out of her reach, with his goddamn long arms. "You aren't supposed to be on this stuff anymore."

"Whatsit matter, Gorgeous?" She brushed her lips against his. The tingling sensation she normally got from a good kiss felt even stronger. God, she could do this all day.

Then, Gale decided to ruin her fun and push her away. "I don't want to kiss you when you're drunk." He glanced at the bottle. "Or high." Gale looked her up and down. "Come on, let's sober you up." He picked her up a little too easily, and carted her off to the bathroom.

Johanna forgot to panic until he turned the water on. Then, her mind decided to make up for lost time. The water hissed into her ears so loudly that it was hard to hear anything else. Her own pulse sounded like a torrent of water swishing around in her ear canal. She couldn't do this. She couldn't. "No." "NO!"

Even though Johanna fought Gale like a cat, she couldn't match his strength. Soon enough both of them were under the water, and Johanna couldn't breathe. _Just tell us what you know, and we'll stop. _They were lying. The pain would never end. No one would rescue her. No one, save for her torturers, and pathetic Peeta Mellark would ever hear her scream. Except it wasn't the guards or Peeta holding her there.

"Johanna? Are you okay?" He waved a hand in front of her face.

How the fuck was she supposed to answer that question when she was drowning? "Let go of me." Johanna managed to choke out. She managed to pull away, but she couldn't remember the way out of the fucking shower. Instead, Johanna pressed herself against the wall, as far away from the water as she could get. It stung as it hit her shoulder blades and her butt. Even though she knew Gale was the only one with her, Johanna felt hands all over hear, touching places she never wanted them to touch, let along grab, or pinch or slap.

Johanna tried to slip away to her memories of Finnick, with his warm, glowing face and his smile that could melt the sparkling Capitol streets. She only saw his corpse torn apart by mutts, and smelled his blood in her nose. "Fuck!" Her own words sounded like some pathetic whimper.

Another hand touched her arm. "Johanna? You okay?" It wasn't like the cold hands of the guards. This one felt hot to the touch, more searing than the hot water of the shower. Johanna heard him mutter something, but she couldn't hear it over the pounding in her ears. Next thing she knew he was peeling her soaked clothes off.

And then the hands were everywhere again, the cold, hard hands, and Johanna couldn't get away. By the time the water finally stopped, Johanna couldn't tell if she had been crying or not. All she knew is that she could hardly move, and she felt stiff as a board.

"Johanna?" Gale's hand touched her shoulder, and she was shivering and burning all at the same time.

"Don't touch me!" Her muscles wouldn't move like she wanted them to, so she stumbled more than she ran, into his closet, and closed the door.

Holy cow, researching morphine highs was a little disturbing. I wasn't sure what it was like to be dopy on pain meds. Pretty sure the stuff they gave me when I got my wisdom teeth removed just made me mean, haha.

Anyway, hope you liked this one. Took me a little while because of real life getting in the way of my writing. The next chapter is largely a follow up to this one, from Gale's perspective, so I don't think it'll take as long. We can hope, right?

Also, some of my favorite characters from Splatterlog will be making appearances in one way or another. Submit your guesses in the reviews, and the winners get useless brownie points!


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